She Loves The Soup
by imgayerthanyou
Summary: Just a short little one shot. Maura's sick and Jane goes over to her place after work to check up on her.


"Maur?" Jane calls out into the quiet house as she closes the door behind her. She shrugs her jacket off and hangs it up in the closet, a habit she'd formed after Maura scolded her for throwing it over the back of the couch once. She puts her spare key on the counter along with the bag she'd brought over.

"Ma made soup for you," she calls out again, but softer this time, in case Maura's sleeping. She finds her friend sitting up awake in bed, surrounded by crumpled tissues. Jane pouts as she looks Maura over – hair tousled messily, nose red, and skin paler than usual.

"Hello Jane," Maura greets groggily.

"Look at you," Jane practically coos, a hint of amusement still in her voice as she comes around to sit on the edge of the bed next to Maura. She holds the container of hot soup carefully in her lap, the spoon from Maura's kitchen drawer resting on top.

"It's just a case of nasopharyngitis," Maura shrugs, a small smile on her cracked lips. "You could have let me come into work today, Jane."

Jane pulls a face. "And let you get everyone sick with nasophar-whatever? I don't think so. What the hell even is it?" She leans back, reconsidering her close proximity.

Maura laughs before grimacing, running her hand over her throat. "The common cold."

Jane relaxes a little and opens the lid of the container. "Oh, yeah well, trust me, I want you at work." She flushes at her words, not daring to look at Maura. "You know, Pike is really reaching new levels of insufferable."

"I bet," Maura smiles as she takes the soup Jane offers. Jane does her best to ignore the knowing smirk. The one she sees too often and doesn't like to think about. Instead she focuses on watching Maura bring the first spoonful to her lips, blowing gently to cool the steaming broth.

That doesn't seem to help either, and Jane looks away, turning around the other way to look at the bed covered in tissues.

"I think this is the messiest I've ever seen your room." Jane smirks back up at Maura, who only hums after swallowing another spoonful of soup.

"This soup, is absolutely incredible," she licks her lips.

"I'll tell Ma you like it," Jane grins happily. She stands and starts picking up the tissues across Maura's sheets.

"Love it," Maura says.

"Hm?" Jane pauses her cleanup and looks up at Maura.

"Tell your mother I love the soup, not just like it."

Maura's looking at Jane with the warmest smile, her face radiant now even through the cold, and Jane feels that weakness in her knees she gets sometimes. When she's scared or tired after a long day or when Maura says certain things she never knows the meaning of.

"'Kay," she nods and goes back to picking up the tissues. When she collects them all she brings them into the bathroom to throw them out.

"Don't forget to wash your hands," Maura instructs from her room. Jane rolls her eyes but soaps her hands under warm water, enjoying the scent of Maura's hand soap. Jane looks at the bottle, comparing the fancy french vanilla with anti-bacterial beads to her bottle of store brand sitting on her sink's counter at home. Finally she dries her hands and goes back into Maura's room, where her friend has already finished her soup and put the container on her nightstand.

Jane smiles as Maura snuggles under the blankets, laying down so only her head and messy hair is visible. Jane sits back down on the edge of the bed.

"Mmm, that soup was _really_ good," she mumbles sleepily.

"I'm glad," Jane says. "I'll let you nap, but I'm gonna stay a little bit, okay? Let me know if you need anything." And she can't help it, so she pushes a strand of hair back from Maura's face. It's friendly but affectionate, and Maura smiles with her eyes closed, their corners still crinkling slightly.

"You still have some of your beer in the fridge if you want," Maura sighs.

"Ever the hostess," Jane says softly before picking the container up off the nightstand and leaving the bedroom, closing the door gently behind her.

* * *

Jane's curled up on the plush couch in front of Maura's TV when the door to the bedroom creaks open. Jane sits up slightly and puts her beer down on the coffee table(on the coaster, of course). She can't help the smile that stretches her cheeks at the sight of Maura shuffling slowly into the room.

"What?" Maura pouts when Jane laughs.

"I've just never seen you so...subdued," Jane shakes her head.

"What does that mean?" Maura questions, sitting on the chair that forms the L-shape with the couch around the coffee table.

"It means I never thought a small case of the common cold would turn the bossy Dr. Isles into a poor rag doll," Jane teases lightly as she takes another sip from her beer. Maura only grumbles something about not being _that_ bossy and Jane chuckles.

"Aw c'mon, it's a nice change of pace," she offers, but Maura doesn't seem to be any more placated. Jane just rolls her eyes and pats the spot on the couch next to her.

"C'mere, get under the blanket, aren't you chilly?"

"No, I don't have a fever. Luckily that's not one of the symptoms of nasopharyngitis." Maura explains even as she stands to move over to the couch. "I could pass the virus to you though," she hesitates as she picks up the blanket.

"After all the trouble we get ourselves into, I'm not scared of a little nasopharalala," Jane waves her hand at the word.

Maura slips under the blanket and sidles up next to Jane, whose focus had returned to the two men talking Patriots defense on the screen.

"You know, it's really not that hard of a word to say," Maura says, her matter-of-fact tone evident even through her congestion.

"Hm?" Jane sounds with her lips poised around her beer bottle.

"Nasopharyngitis."

Jane smiles, still keeping her attention on the TV. Maura shakes her head. A few moments of silence pass before she speaks again.

"So, you should really ask your mother if she'd share that soup recipe with me, I would love some more."

Now Jane glances over at Maura, who's all but cuddled up with her.

"Frankie's on his way over with a fresh batch."

"Oh, excellent," Maura smiles, trying to hide how pleased she really is, and settles back in her seat. Jane has no time for another comment, as any remark she had dies in her throat with Maura pressing into her side like she is. Jane does her best to focus on the top five things the Patriots defense needs to do this season, but all the while she can't help but think that she wouldn't mind Maura passing anything, let alone a cold, on to her.


End file.
